


Smoke & Mirrors

by Haytham_Conway



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Don't Like Don't Read, Father/Son Incest, M/M, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 09:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haytham_Conway/pseuds/Haytham_Conway
Summary: The older man turned towards him, his face gleaming with sweat in the dying sunlight, as its source slowly sunk behind the rolling mountains. "Hmm? Is something the matter?" Ratonhnhaké:ton stared into Haytham's eyes for several seconds, appreciating the warmth burning within them, before answering."Nothing. Do you need anything?" Ratonhnhaké:ton ignored the warning bells going off in his head, the warning bells trying to draw his attention, trying to alert him to the fact that something was wrong.Nothing was wrong.Everything was perfectly fine. Everything was fine. He was fine, Haytham was fine. Why should he have any reason to question that?
Relationships: Haytham Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor
Kudos: 6





	Smoke & Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> Not really a plot here, just an idea I wanted to write. I _may_ do _something_ with this in the future though. We'll see. 
> 
> In any case, I hope you all enjoy this!

The first time _It_ happened, Ratonhnhaké:ton had been outside sitting on the porch stairs, wrapped in warm blankets. He'd been watching Haytham- watching as the man placed a large piece of wood on the block, and then with a single movement brought down the sharp blade of his axe to cut the chunk in half. Only, for a full second, the wood fizzled like liquid as the axe passed through its middle. Haytham didn't seem to notice, as the wood just as quickly returned to normal, and each half tumbled harmlessly down to the ground. 

But Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen it.

And he didn't have a _clue_ as to what to make of it.

"Haytham," Ratonhnhaké:ton spoke up, not moving from where he still sat.

The older man turned towards him, his face gleaming with sweat in the dying sunlight, as its source slowly sunk behind the rolling mountains. "Hmm? Is something the matter?" Ratonhnhaké:ton stared into Haytham's eyes for several seconds, appreciating the warmth burning within them, before answering. 

"Nothing. Do you need anything?" Ratonhnhaké:ton ignored the warning bells going off in his head, the warning bells trying to draw his attention, trying to alert him to the fact that something was wrong.

Nothing was wrong.

Everything was perfectly fine. Everything was fine. He was fine, Haytham was fine. Why should he have any reason to question that? 

Haytham wiped his brow and set the axe down, propping it up against the block. "A break. Perhaps now would be a good time to go inside, anyway- we've both had enough fresh air for one day." Without another word, he trudged up to Ratonhnhaké:ton and pulled the younger man up into his arms. His eyebrow curled upward upon seeing the disappointed look on Ratonhnhaké:ton's face. "Come now- you have been sick for days now, and it'll be a while longer yet before your cold lets up. I need rest, and so do _you."_

"Mmm, fine," Ratonhnhaké:ton grumbled. The corner of Haytham's mouth twitched in amusement, and before Ratonhnhaké:ton could make a retort, the other man pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It only lasted a few seconds. But that few seconds was enough to shut the younger man up, at least for the moment.

Haytham fumbled with the door handle a bit, and Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't bother holding back a laugh.

A few minutes later, and they were inside the cabin, curled up in bed, arms wrapped around each other. There was no conversation- they were too tired for that. There was no silence, either. There were the slow, soft breaths leaving the lips of the two men in question. Not to mention the crickets, the birds, and the occasional coyote howl from outside.

"..."

Speaking of things outside...

"Haytham, did you remember to bring the wood in?"

"..."

This also marked the first time he'd ever heard Haytham say "fuck."

* * *

_It_ happened a second time a few weeks later. It was when Ratonhnhaké:ton had bent down to pour some food into their dog Minerva's bowl. As soon as the kibbles hit, the metal bowl fizzled, and the kibbles spilled all over the floor. Ratonhnhaké:ton stared down at the kibbles, dumbfounded. Minerva didn't seem to care, as she scarfed down the spilled food without a second thought. Within the space of a minute, all the kibbles were gone. Minerva looked up at Ratonhnhaké:ton with an almost petulant expression, as if she was trying to say, _"Is this_ all _that you're giving me, human??"_

Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't seem to notice- he was stilled absorbed in his confusion as to _what the fuck_ just happened. He crouched down and picked up the dog bowl, setting aside the container he'd used to pour the food in the first place, so he could better examine the dish. It seemed perfectly normal now- cold, chillingly cold. And covered in slobber. 

As usual. 

He set the bowl back down, and took the container back into his hands. He finally glanced at Minerva, who then whined and wagged her tail. And then she barked at him. 

"Yes, that's all you're getting."

Everything was fine.

He just needed to get more sleep. Yes, that was it. Sleep. Perhaps he should start going to bed a little earlier from now on. Haytham had been telling him to do just that for a while now. It was probably time he took the advice.

* * *

The third time _It_ happened, a month had passed. Ratonhnhaké:ton had crawled out of bed that night (which was very much a chore, considering how tightly Haytham held him at night) to use the bathroom. He washed his hands, and splashed some water on his face, scrubbing it a little, not so much to clean it- more out of habit than anything else. He turned the water off, and lifted his head as he moved his hand towards the towel. And he froze.

Out of the corner of his eye, in the mirror, he saw something-

_Not again, not again-_

_Don't look at it. Don't look at it._

Ratonhnhaké:ton looked towards the mirror. And he saw Haytham's face staring back at him. He seemed to be wearing- from what little Ratonhnhaké:ton could see- clothing from the eighteenth century (growing up, he'd had the strangest fascination with history- not just his people's history, but all of history. Haytham once said it almost seemed like Ratonhnhaké:ton had always been searching for... _something_.) But none of that registered nearly as much as what his gaze was currently focused on. Haytham had his hand pressed to the side of his neck, blooding trickling from between his fingers. 

_"I'm proud of you, in a way. You have shown great conviction. Strength. Courage. All noble qualities... I should have killed you long ago."_

Ratonhnhaké:ton opened his mouth to respond, but then he heard Haytham's voice from behind him, through the bathroom door. 

"Ratonhnhaké:ton? Are you alright? You've been in there for a while."

Was he alright? 

Was he alright, really?

Half of his mind insisted yes. Yes, everything was alright. Everything was fine.

But the other half... it was less certain. Softer, quieter. Not much louder than a whisper. And yet, it was all that much more resounding in the swarm of his thoughts.

_No._

_I'm not alright. Something's wrong- something_ _is_ very wrong. Ratonhnhaké:ton lifted his hand and pressed his palm to the mirror, feeling the cold chill quickly seeping into his flesh. 

_Everything_ is wrong.


End file.
